Dörnaar slowly came to consciousness, a massive headache ponding his reptile skull. “What did I drink last night…” He murmured mostly to him self.
A soft female voice responded “I’m not sure, it almost killed you”.
Dörnnar opened one of his eyes, pain shot through his head, intense and unrelenting. Feeling dizzy he tried to sit up only to collapse back down. Turning his head he saw a red man in a blackened plate armor siting by a small flickering fire methodically sharpening his sword. The man was wearing his arm in a sling and thoughtfully starred into the fire. “Oh that guy, what was his name… Lazaroth yeah thats it” he thought.
Focusing on the dark form above him he saw the silhouette of slender tall woman. “Who are you..?” He said in a cracked voice.
" My name is Quillathe i was on a ship coming of the coast when we saw the cataclysm, a violent storm of energy atop of the mountain, naturally I told the captain to put me to shore, a opportunity like this cannot be wasted, imagine what one might learn off such a powerful phenomenon. I found the red man first, laying in a ravine, he was beaten up with a couple of broken ribs and his armor all scorched black. Two days later I found you in heap of rocks at base of cliff, apparent you had fallen of the cliff side, That was two weeks ago. " she said.
Dörnaars mind raced, so he had been unconscious for two weeks, hell of a drink. Wait, it had not been a drink. The memories flooded back in and the battle upon the terrace became clear in his mind. Zuram dead… sudden anger burst through his veins like fire, the throbbing pain in his body fading away as the fire rage through his body. The rage faded as soon as it came and the pain came crashing back. He look up at the woman, " “There were more of us, a half giant and man in silver mask.” He wheezed.
“I have only found the two of you” Said the woman.
Ika was surrounded by darkness how long he had been in the void he could not say, perhaps eons. A small light was flickering in the distance. A pin of light in a universe of crushing darkness. What hope was there after all? Non could withstand the cold darkness.
Sometime later the light burned brighter with a warm glow. Ika stirred the darkness shrinking, warmth returning to his form. He tried to rise, violent pain shot through his abdomen feeling around the source pf the pain his hybrid hand grasped around what felt like branch wet with blood. He opened his eyes, he filched he was several hundred feet up, hanging from a tree that was perched on the cliff side. No, not hanging he was impaled on a tree perched on the cliff side. “How can I live…” He thought. He looked down at his hybrid hands covered with black blood, his werewolf blood must have kept him alive… He focused his senses at the light, is seemed to be a camp fire further down the cliff face.
A cold wind tore across the plains of despair slowly dispersing the dust revealing a blade partially buried in the ashen ground. The blade was thin and straight the hilt intricately woven with black cloth. The reflection on the smooth surface of the blade flicked like a flame only to slowly die down. For an instance a pair of ice cold blue eyes flashes across the surface and then disappear like it never was there. The winds of the Shadowfel howled tearing into the horizon, a terrible storm was about to be birthed. Thunder rolled over the mountains and a pale hand drew the sword from it’s resting place.